


Beautiful Scars on Critical Veins

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Potentially triggering, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another depressing very short one-shot. My apologies.<br/>Title from Kids In The Dark by All Time Low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Scars on Critical Veins

Drip.  
Drip.  
Drip.  
My blood leisurely trickled down my arm, raining on to the cool black tiles where I sat.  
Once more won't kill you, the voice in the back of my head whispers temptingly. One more to give you the pain you deserve.  
The pain I deserve.  
I scramble around the blood-slicked floor, trying to locate the blade that, for such a small object, caused a lot of blood to be produced.   
I felt the chill of metal underneath my palm and reached with the other to pick it up. I winced as the movement stretched the plethora of fresh cuts along my forearm.  
Ignoring the sting, I closed my hand around the blade and turned it over to inspect it. A smudge of crimson liquid tainted the otherwise clean blade.  
I wiped the sliver of metal clean and placed it against my forearm, the instrument now lukewarm from the contact with my skin.  
Come on, the voice called again. Just do it. Do it.  
Pressing the blade into my flesh, I swiftly dragged it across my arm, a sense of relief blossoming in the same way as the blurs of scarlet did.  
I breathed deeply, before setting the blade on a new path across my arm.  
Fat.  
Cut.  
Ugly.  
Cut.  
Pathetic.  
Cut.  
Unloved.  
Cut.  
By now, tears were making tracks down my cheeks, falling and mingling with the hot red liquid oozing from my skin.  
Freak.  
Cut.  
Waste of space.  
Cut.  
Worthless.  
Cut.  
I tried to clench my fists, finding I had limited movement and it caused me a great deal of pain to do so.  
I tried to stand up, my gaze wandering around the room, searching for something to lessen the bleeding. But as I attempted to get to my feet, my vision went blurry and I fell to the floor.  
Shit.  
I began to breathe heavily, trying to compose myself.  
Oh God, what if Mikey finds me like this? Or worse, Frank.  
My mind began racing, my heart palpitating, hands shaking, mouth sweating, legs shaking, never-ending, neverendingneverendingneverending.  
Every inch of me screamed, screamed for the end, the end of the pain and the end of the sorrow and the end of the suffering and the end.  
And then numb.  
Numb.  
Nothing.  
Empty mind, empty soul, empty heart, empty body.  
Void of life.  
They'll find me eventually. Whoever 'they' are.  
They'll scream, or they'll cry. They'll beg me to 'wake up' and to 'stop messing around, this isn't funny anymore'. They'll call the ambulance, whoever they can, but it's too late. Simply too late. The paramedics will try, but they can't do a thing. They can do nothing at all.  
I'm dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about formatting, I'll try fix that at some point. If you liked it, why not leave a comment, or some kudos?


End file.
